XXII 
THE DEER 
217 
the horns are certain to be clean. No sheep have 
been permitted upon the forest, therefore the only 
enemy is the grouse or the blue-hare. Nothing is 
more perplexing than the whirr of a disturbed 
grouse, whose sudden flight is certain to awaken the 
attention of the deer, when otherwise your position 
would be well concealed. Attended by an experi¬ 
enced gillie, you may have ascended a steep 
mountain side, commanding an extensive view of 
deep corries, precipitous slopes, barren rocks that 
have fallen in chaotic confusion from bare cliffs, and 
have nearly choked the burn which threads its 
silvery way beneath. Your guide halts suddenly, 
and seats himself upon a convenient rock or tump 
of heather. “We’ll just tak’ a bit o’ a spy,” 
exclaims your attendant, who can always halt and 
rest, when he feels blown, by such a plausible 
excuse. The field-glass is at once brought to bear 
upon the rusty surface of the heathery scene. 
Every hill-face is scanned; the sky-line of each 
mountain ; the dark depths of inhospitable corries,— 
nothing is in view. 
“ Weel, I never saw the like o’t; it’s just bad luck 
that we met that d—d auld witch when we first 
started,” exclaimed Sandy. “ I never kent the 
day for guid sport if auld Bell cam’ across the 
path ; ” 1 and he spat upon the ground. “ She’s just 
1 According to Highland superstition, it is bad luck if the first 
person met when starting should be an old woman. Old Bell was 
considered to be more than usually uncanny. The generally 
accepted antidote to the spell is to spit upon the ground. 
